


i wanna be that g.u.y

by maraudersourwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Crush, Best Friends Shienanigans, Best Friends Support, Crush at First Sight, Dancer Corey, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mentions of Lady Gaga, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 13:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15752535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: Mason needs a scheme, a routine. Something that he can rely on to not have his life all over the place. He's a man with a plan, after all.But letting himself experience chaos for once might be the best decision he ever had.





	i wanna be that g.u.y

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snaeken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snaeken/gifts).



> The title has barely something to do with the fic on itself but since I suck at making titles, I use my wild card of creativity licence.
> 
> This has been on my drafts since forever, because I procastinate even with the things I enjoy doing.  
> There's also the factor that I should be writing a whole different thing, but my brain is noping out of it hard.  
> And I have hopes that writing something else will help me kick into that.
> 
>  
> 
>  **Cal,**  
>  This is your birthday present.  
> I know it was basically a week ago, but time is just a construction and it's definitely never too late if you think of it like that.  
> You still can ask for a refund on this one.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, my little chorus:  
> Barely beta'd.  
> Rather messy.  
> I hope to be funny some day.  
> Hope you enjoy!

 

 

He is having a stay-home day.

Something that doesn’t really happens often. Or at all. Because he’s a really productive person and doing things now is better than pushing them away until the tick tock of the clock sounds the same as a ticking bomb.

If you ask him, it’s just a normal need of planning to keep a high productivity.

If you ask Liam, he’s just a bit crazy borderline obsessive that makes everyone rethink the existence of pod people.

And that’s pretty much why he’s taking a day off. Out of pettiness, to show Liam he’s not, in fact, one of the pod people. And that he can have _Liam days_ , that consist basically of just lazing around and doing more garbage than a average person should.

 _Keep it simple_ , Liam said, patting his shoulder. But this simplicity looks too much like a chaos. And Mason doesn’t really do well with chaos.

Last time he let chaos rule, they ended up in a really sketchy club because, as Liam drunk stated, they had to celebrate being alive. And roughly twenty minutes later, Mason almost got stabbed. While still inside the club. Screaming until his lungs popped out of his ribcage didn’t seem to be the best answer to possible body harm or murder because people called the police _on him._ Shocking.

So not chaos.

Just when he’s about to cave into his instincts and craft a perfect lie of a lazy day he didn’t really had, Liam decides to call and ask if he would be able to be so kind as to bring him lunch. Because he was dumb enough to forget making one in the first place and get some money, in the other.

Declining is at the tip of his tongue but Liam is using his puppy like voice. The one that Mason knows has a mastered matching gaze that he can picture perfectly over the phone. And he’s not really so far from where his roommate’s work. Barely two blocks. Who can deny walking just two blocks? Probaby Liam. But by the time he truly thinks that, he’s already outside and halfway there.

That’s mostly why he didn’t even change from the ratty old shirt and the really worn sweatpants Liam basically forced into him. Damn, he even is using his worst pair of tennis.

And if course that’s when life happens.

Or more like, when life decides he needs to act completely out of character in front of the huge glass door at where Liam works. Right where everyone can see. Where everyone can also be a potential victim of the natural disaster he is now.

With Liam, it resumes in too much flailing, hands hitting vital body parts. Sometimes there’s stock of papers or hot beverages or both involved. Sometimes there’s swearing and empty death threats. But almost always there’s someone falling to the ground.

With him, thankfully, is just the last one.

Of course, it’s not him, but the poor kind soul that decided to save him from his misery who instead goes down with a huff.

The chaos of his sneakers stutter screeching over the floor to try avoiding his fall is now silent after the painful thud of a body against the floor as the final note of his 2 second shitshow act. Mason dares to take a look at the sprawled body on the floor, who’s smiling up at him with amusement in his gaze.

And of course, this person is the most breathtakingly gorgeous guy with a smile as bright that Mason could have ever laid his eyes on.

He should have known.

This is why chaos isn’t supposed to reign his life.

 

*

 

“He is not looking at you,” Liam mumbles, chin pressed on the heel of his hand and fingers gently curving over his mouth. Mason appreciates that Liam tries to both keep his nonchalant attitude and fake he isn’t really talking to avoid looking like a loon, even if he’s not succeeding.

“How do you know?,” hisses Mason, sitting behind Liam’s front desk and hunching over trying to look more like a really ugly decoration rather than a guy who just lost his whole dignity in the length of a breath.

“Well, because you have been hiding down there for almost ten minutes now,” Liam quips, “And because he's already in his dance class”.

Mason nods, not even looking at his best friend but at the fidgeting hands of his on his lap, and misses by a mile the cheeky smile that Liam throws before he perks up and looks. Sunshine Guy is the first thing that greets his eyes, from across the entrance hall, and does it again. The whole _smiling in a way that will melt your insides with no problem_ and waves.

He waves back dazedly, while trying to very hard not to blush, just when Sunshine Guy turns around and walks away into one of the dance rooms.

Liam snort, clearly amused, and Mason punches his arm, ignoring that his hand probably hurts more than his best friend’s limb.

Because this is clearly all Liam’s fault.

 

*

 

For the first couple of weeks, Mason manages to come up with a flawless plan to see Sunshine Guy again.

It basically consist on hiding Liam’s lunch and wallet and rely to much into how oblivious he can be, enough to save Mason’s neck from explaining this whole strange charade.

But of course he does not.

“Can you stop hiding my stuff?,” Liam asks, his gaze still fixed on the shooters game that he’s been spending his whole free day in. “I’m getting tired of playing out like I don’t know you are doing it. I want to eat my chips on my lunch break. And you never pack them.”

“That’s because those chips aren’t good for you”

Mason is too surprised to even pretend that he isn’t actually doing anything, since he’s the rational one from them both and it should be impossible for such a terrible idea to cross his mind. But if he thinks about it, the statistic only works because Liam is more prone to get on board with his own bad ideas.

There’s a reason why they are best friends after all, besides that cookie sharing in kindergarten.

Liam pushes the pause button and turns around. His gaze goes from Mason’s eyes to his hand and back to his eyes and it doesn’t takes too long for Mason to notice that he’s actually holding Liam’s wallet now and that he can’t even pretend it isn’t because the thing has so many duct tape over it that it’s almost impossible to believe there is any kind of fabric underneath it all.

That if he doesn’t count the fact that it looks chubbier than Mason’s and it has nothing to do with paycheck and everything with thousands of tickets and notes for every single thing in life shoved in there for a later inspection that never comes.

Mason should get rid of the evidence and make Liam forget that all this happened, but the only thing that crosses his mind is throwing that ticket eater frankenstein in his hand to his best friend’s head and hope that he gets knocked out with amnesia and not flat out brainless.

But he doesn’t really want to chance the odds.

His face must be doing something regarding that idea, because Liam frowns and looks very offended for a second before doing that half understanding smile that Mason wishes were never needed in the first place.

“Look, I know why you’re doing it,” Liam says, “It’s just that it’s getting a bit weird”.

And that’s rich, coming from someone who’s flirting comes in form of getting punched in the face, a bloody nose and snarky comments from every possible corner.

“I’m doing it for your health,” Mason tries, but he knows he’s not fooling anyone.

“Yeah, and because you got a big fat crush on one of the dancers where I work.”

They share a look for a moment and Mason, for the first time in forever, feels like they exchanged roles. Like Liam is the wise one trying to yoda his best friend’s way in life and he’s just this reckless kid that will end up dying by putting a fork on a toaster on the name of YOLO.

And he’s just having a crush, for fuck’s sakes.

After what feels far too long and it’s probably just seconds, Liam shrugs and turns back to his game, pressing play and head shooting a zombie on the next breath as if the whole chit chat they just had was a whisk of Mason’s mind getting lost in his whole world.

Which would be somewhere of a relief, but of course Liam can’t grant him that either.

“Bring me my chips next time,” says Liam, “and we can have lunch together watching them practice”

Mason’s sure that that selfless camaraderie is what makes them stick together after all this time.

That and the unnerving thought that if he wasn’t there, Liam would have died in the hands of those damn chips long ago.

 

*

 

The chips are not only not nutritional enough, but they also look nothing like a chip.

They’re orange, for starters, and it’s not due to any flavoured powder added. They also have no chip flavor, more like a chip that had been thrown in the dishwasher, then ricocheted to the toilet, then let out to dry, got stale in the meantime and was later thrown in a blender with other chips to make a paste out of it that would be shaped into badly cut chips.

That without mention that the bag is half empty. Mason is sure that he could put them on an emergency kit as oxygens bag, if it wasn’t for the awful smell they have. The same awful smell that it leaves as an afterthought on your mouth after just one single bite.

He’s also pretty sure that after a bag of it, Liam gets in such an urge to go to the bathroom, that whatever logic nesting in behind those baby blue eyes flies out the window and he’s just left working by pure instinct.

But they are, somehow, still Liam’s favorite.

And a deal’s a deal.

A small price to pay when cute boys are involved.

 

*

 

“Oh my god,” whispers Mason, hunched over one of the corners of the dance room, sandwich in hand, while they are in the middle of practice.

Liam is at his side, with a sandwich of his own and the fucking chip bag open in the middle of them both, as if Mason would even dare to eat that poison. He’s not even looking, Mason is sure even if he himself hasn’t been able to peel his eyes away from the one specific dancer moving around at the sound of one of Lady Gaga’s song, but Liam hums in agreement anyways.

He probably thinks that Mason’s awe comes from the supposedly bite he should have taken out from the sandwich in between his hands that Liam was so adamant into buying because they’re the best ones in town. Instead, Mason has been kind of crushing it to pieces by gripping as tight into it as possible, as if the thing would work on him like some sort of anchor to reality while he’s definitely down on fantasy land while Sunshine Boy does the more sensual hip roll he’s seen in his life.

“Wait until the next part,” Liam comments, biting on his own piece of heaven that has nothing to do with dancing and more to do with bread and nine different kinds of meat.

Liam, his best friend, who is maybe  completely aware that he’s getting half chub in the corner of a dance room watching the guy that he has been developing an unnatural crush on falls to his knees and he lets all kind of sinful thoughts flood his mind at the image. Mason knows that he should feel somewhat mortified but if he has in mind that he has had to third wheel Liam many times before and get to see in front row how his best friend get very handsy and loud when kissing someone, well.

This is just being even.

Liam clears his throat and Mason notices that not only the music stopped and each dancer is gathering their stuff for their own food break, but also that Sunshine Boy is walking towards them and what even is being able to talk at this point? Or breathe properly? How is he supposed to make words happen and not pass out right that instant?

“Hey, you’re new here,” the voice is soft, inquiring and somehow too cheerful all the same. Maybe in other situation Mason would think this is a scam, because people that happy in life aren’t real. But Sunshine Guy’s smile seems honest and open and there’s not much Mason can do to not just melt and blurt out odes to each and every part of Sunshine Guy’s existence.

Except shoving half sandwich into his mouth in a very Liam move.

Sunshine Boy blinks and snorts softly, his gaze doing something that would fill Mason’s stomach with butterflies if it wasn’t that it’s already half full by embarrassment, anxiety and half lunch badly chewed.

Thank god he has his best friend to save his ass, right?

Yeah, right.

Liam’s looking at him too, lacking all the light amusement that Sunshine Guy has. Instead his features contorted into what should be a frown of concern and a grimace of disgust, but just look like one of those old people ready to jump on your throat if you do retail work.

Or like he's about to burst out laughing at any moment too.

Mason starts coughing because of course he would, no one should be able to eat like that unless they are an ostrich, a boa constrictor or some kind of monster breed between them both, and that’s what brings Liam back to the present situation in which he either saves his best friend from embarrassment or sees him die in hands of a footlong Veggie Proud Delight.

“Yeah, I kinda invited him to watch, told him the dance routine was insanely sick and he should check it out,” somewhere along all those words, one of Liam’s hands found place on Mason’s back and it’s effectively hiding the fact that he’s helping his best friend to avoid choking as a pat on the back that’s too hard to be just a friendly caress. “Hope it’s okay”

“Yeah, no, we don’t mind,” says Corey, shrugging with a smile. Mason can feel the guy’s gaze burned into him and he’s not sure if find it terribly complimenting or embarrassing. He quickly gets to the inner agreement of feeling both. “He can come whenever he wants. It’s always good to have some public, helps soothe the nerves”

Whose nerves, Mason has no idea because his are clearly over the clouds, but he still manages to hum in agreement and nod in what he hopes is natural human behaviour and not a wild card of _‘I’m freaking out because you’re gorgeous’_.

“I’m Corey,” says Sunshine Guy and smiles wide enough to crinkle the sides of his eyes before hanging a hand in the space between them both. Mason doesn’t miss a second before taking it because his mom teached him manners, thank you very much, but as soon as his skin makes contact with Corey’s, his brain short circuits once more.

And he knows, okay? The silence is stretching too much to be normal and he’s still gripping Corey’s hand like a precious treasure and let's not talk about how he’s probably having the whole insane looking to a T, but he can’t help it. For the first time, he can say that he understands Frodo’s feeling with the whole letting the ring go thing. And what’s worse is that Corey keeps smiling, as if this is something that happens each and every day of his life and most likely does because who would not melt like this under his gaze.

“He’s Mason, he’s-- huh,” Liam’s looks at him for a second, doing the weird eyebrow dancing he learned from both their moms, before looking back at Corey sheepishly, “He didn’t sleep well last night so he’s kinda--- yeah”

“It’s okay,” says Corey and Mason truly believes everything is okay because how could it not when life allows him to experience moments like this. Corey tilt his head slightly to a side, the smile never leaving his features, and squeezes his hand once. Mason doesn’t really want to let his hopes up but this is exceeding every dreamed situation. Someone screams on the background and people is moving around but Mason keeps looking at Corey and--

“Can I have my hand back now? I kinda need it to dance”

Mason is sure that he never let go of something so quick as how he just did with Corey’s hand. Not even that one time he burned his hand with the oven. Or that other one where he decided to pick Liam’s clothes from the floor and found a very moisturized brief boxer. Corey laughs, because that’s the polite thing to do, and pops one of Liam’s chips on his mouth before waving them goodbye and going back to practice.

“Dude, I didn’t think you could reach my levels of weird,” mutters Liam, amusedly.

“I didn’t know either,” Mason whines, because that’s it. This is his life now. He’s acting weird and Liam is calling him out on it and every planet is aligned to make him embarrass himself even further.

“Well, I guess you can be full of surprises too.”

And Mason couldn’t agree more.

Especially when he sees Corey eat that excuse of a chip and he can’t find it in himself to say it’s a deal breaker.

 

*

 

He keeps going to eat lunch with Liam because, let's be real. He might have lost some of his dignity back there, if not almost completely, but it’s not the first time that it happens.

And it’s nearly not enough to stop him from enjoy watching Corey dance.

 

*

 

He also keeps buying the damn disgusting chips.

 

*

 

At some point, he’s proud to admit that he starts talking to the other guy on his own too.

 

*

 

“My little baby,” mutters Liam, right after they finished their lunch and slithered back towards the front desk, cleaning an invisible tear from his face in a very soap opera fashion while Mason wraps what’s left of his sandwich for a couple of hours later, once Liam is hungry again, “talking to his crush, off to steal some hearts”

He sniff in fake nostalgia, a hand landing on the middle of his chest for teathrics, while the other falls on Mason’s shoulder and gives an almost paternal squeeze.

“They grow up so fast.”

There’s no remorse for the extra lettuce and mayonnaise that’s left on Liam’s hair when Mason gives him a revenge sandwich slap for his troubles.

He also gets a 4 out of 10 in drama.

Not everyone can be Barbra Streisand.

 

*

 

Some days end up turning into every day of the week and then into every day of the month. Mason is sure he never went so many times to the gym by his own volition or the excitement that takes hold of him when it’s time for him to go.

Even less if he has in mind he doesn’t own a membership.

 

*

 

He’s sure he’s not imagining the little flirty glances that Corey sends his way when he’s rehearsing.

Or the suggestive lip bites.

Or even how he starts angling a bit more towards the corner where Mason hides than to the full body mirrors wall in front of him.

He’s sure he’s not imagining, but he still finds it hard to believe.

 

*

 

“Do you guys always rehearse Lady Gaga’s songs?”

He’s not asking because he’s tired of the repertoire, no sir.

He’s asking because he’s not sure how many hip rolls and sexual poses he can take before ending up dying on hands of some sort of heart attack induced by arousal.

“Well, it’s what everyone likes most. And her songs are really good for dancing”

Mason can’t really argue with that point, right? He himself had been dragged into the Gaga charm way too many times, enough so that finding him on boxer briefs with an indiscernible object on his hand as an imaginary microphone isn’t weird for Liam anymore.

“You should be grateful though,” comes Coreys reply in a joking tone. He points towards the group of people sitting around and eating on a far fair distance from them both. Mason had never noticed how out into their own thing they are. He really doesn’t want to make something big out of this but he actually kinda does because if Corey wants to spend his break time just with him instead of with his dance friends, that means something right? _Right?_ “You haven’t seen us dance with high heels yet”

Mason doesn’t exactly know how someone can get a mental version of tunnel vision, but at that tidbit of information he does and, really, he should be grateful indeed.

He’s not sure he can survive the image of Corey on high heels dancing without paying a visit to Liam’s dad at the hospital.

 

*

 

Suddenly, lunch time isn’t enough, and Mason starts to go pick up Liam at closing time.

It has nothing to do with it being Corey’s time to practice on his own.

 

*

 

It actually has something to do with _‘picking up Liam after work’_ time transforming into _‘saying bye to Liam after work time and staying a bit more’_ though.

 

*

 

“That boy is a monster, that boy is a monste-e-e-er,” sings Mason under his breath, leaning over Liam’s desk while he waits for his best friend to come back from the bathroom. His back is towards the door, for not other reason that being behind the counter would make Liam think that it’s fine to leave for more than what a pee escapade should last, and his gaze is fixed on his phone, specifically on the stupid game of Flappy Bird that Liam decided to download without consulting him and that actually got him way more hooked than he expected.

The song has been stuck in his head since last night, after basically two hours of Corey trying over and over and over again a routine that attempted to take out of him a savage and sexy side that the guy assured wasn’t there to begin with.

Mason totally disagree but it’s not like he’s going to risk an extra dose of embarrassment by saying so.

“Careful there,” mutters a voice on his side and Mason can feel the most pleasurable shiver go down his spine, “I could eat your heart”

Mason looked up just in time to see Corey smile at him past the point of what friendly acquaintances do before going into the dance room and Mason can hear the slappy noise of the damn bird dying again but he can’t find a fuck to give because he’s sure Corey just flirted with him, out in the open, and he’s equal times ecstatic and freaking out.

“Hey, are you okay?”

He turns to fix his gaze on Liam, that who knows how long has he been now standing in front of him, and blinks. Once. Twice. He loses count after three because he’s not waking up and this is insane in so many levels. His brain isn’t cooperating anymore.

“I think Corey flirted with me”

It feels like a world weighting revelation. And the only thing that Liam does is say _‘oh’_ and go back to his phone.

Mason blinks at his best friend because yeah, he might not had been expecting a party or a pat in the back, but something to make him feel a bit more valid would actually be kinda nice. Like sharing his excitement instead of focused on the damn bird that’s on _his_ phone screen too. Because of course it would be on both phones, in case the batteries of one run dry.

And it’s not pettiness what moves him to slap Liam’s phone away. The sound of the ugly bird smacking against one of the pipes is not loud enough for him to enjoy, but it doesn’t matter because Liam looks up in mild horror and confusion.

It’s not pettiness, he swears.

“ _Oh_ ,” Mason says, before turning back to his own business on his phone.

It’s not pettiness.

It’s just best friend’s privilege to give a little of the hurt back.

 

*

 

Flirting ends up being something that inevitably happens, whether Mason expects it or not. He’s not pointing the _wanting_ matter because he clearly wants it.

But for how long can they actually keep the Lady Gaga theme going on.

 

*

 

It turns out, that for quite a while.

 

*

 

“Are you going to make a move on him at some point or--?”

Mason actually wants to know why is it that every time Liam wants to have a serious talk or a heart to heart talk, he’s playing a game. I mean, don’t get him wrong. The whole _‘not really needing to watch your face’_ when dealing with heavy emotional or psychological staff is nice. Less stress, less struggling.

Now, the fact that there's always a shooter game involved. _Eh_. Mason kinda has his doubts about that one.

“What do you care?,” he replies without real bite but with the sense of prolonging an emotional offense because Liam doesn’t really know how to deal with it and enjoying the results. “It’s not like you cared when he first--”

“I told you I was sorry!”

“Yeah, and I still haven’t forgiven you”

Liam pauses the game and turns to look at him. It’s incredible how him can really make Mason feel naked and it’s not even in the fun way.

“Do I really have to pretend that I don’t know you’re derailing?”

Mason groans because of course when he needs to play dumb, Liam suddenly turns the switch of maturity on and ruins the only escape route there is to this conversation.

“When did you even learn to deal with all this?”

“ _Eh_ ,” Liam shrugs and turns back to the screen, pressing the play button too soon and almost getting a headshot, “I’ve learned from the best”

Mason isn't even sure he teached Liam about how to psychoanalyze your best friend, but okay. He doesn’t mind getting the credit for that one. It’s actually really nice to know Liam can grow in so many ways and---

And he’s derailing again.

“You know that if you ask him out, he’ll say yes, right?,” asks Liam, barely glancing towards where Mason is standing before directing his gaze back to the screen.

“No, I don’t,” replies Mason with a sigh and sits down at Liam’s side, watching the game that he by now knows by memory. Zombies groan and crawls towards Liam’s character and he must be having it bad, because the idea of being an emotionless piece of bones sounds kinda appealing. Especially when Liam’s reply comes as a hum that sound like the closest version of a _'yes, darling’_ ever.

He can’t even panic freely.

“There’s a bet actually,” mutters Liam, as if he was talking about the weather and not the fact that this is Mason’s love life in the spotlight. “About you asking him out.”

And it’s a bad idea asking. Mason is actually proud to say that he can control his curiosity to a limit, but this itches different than what the usual mental mosquito bite does. This is full on a mental flea attack. And there’s so much Mason can do to calm down the need to mentally scratch it.

Like caving and asking.

“How many people have bid that I’d get rejected?”

“Neither? The ones that bid against you was actually to bet that Corey would be the first to do something”

“And you?”

“Oh, I didn’t participate,” Liam reply doesn’t even has an ounce of doubt and Mason is pretty sure that if they weren’t practically brothers, he wouldn’t have noticed that something was actually off.

Because Liam loves to bet.

“You bid that I was gonna do it, right?,” Mason mutters and looks at his best friend, that winces slightly before smiling sheepishly back at him.

“Before weekend, yeah”

“You know that I hate you, right?”

There’s no bite to it.

Just a joke, from one best friend to the other.

“Think of the extra money for rent, dude”

And the thought of killing him in his sleep.

 

*

 

He doesn’t exactly plan to make the big step the exact day that Liam is free from work.

But it’s not like he would stop it from happening either.

 

*

 

“Oh, you came,” comes Corey’s surprised and, he dares to dream, a bit excited greeting.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, it’s Liam’s free day”

Maybe it’s too early. Or too late. Maybe the planets aren’t aligned right for him. Or it’s just his brain in presence of Corey, as usual. But he can’t find the logic in that statement. It’s not that he doesn’t love his best friend like a brother, but ‘free days’ sometimes count to them as ‘staying out of each other’s way’ because that’s the healthy thing to do when you see someone almost 24/7 since you were four.

“We always spend time together. We kinda live together so”

“Yeah but, y’know.”

And no, he doesn’t know.

But Corey sounds different from usual, more hopeful, more shy. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking from Mason’s part. Who knows. But it’s enough to help him push further, to break the crystal wall that’s been there for too long and that it’s starting to get tiring.

“I wouldn’t miss your practice for anything in the world”

And things shift, somehow.

The air feels a bit different now and there’s no actual reply from Corey besides one of his infamous smiles and hitting the play button on his phone, but it’s there. Like a bubble, just for them both.

Soon Lady Gaga’s G.U.Y song starts filling the empty space of the dance room while him, filled by a mixture of the same dumb bravery that made him go all honesty hour seconds ago and Liam’s voice saying that he can’t be a benchwarmer for the rest of his life, walks aways from his usual corner at the dance room, instead sitting in front of the mirror wall. There’s no real reason why, he just does it because chaos started this all and maybe a lack of a planned schedule will make things work.

Corey smiles in a way that’s almost rewarding, as if that has been the move he was waiting for, and then the dancing starts.

And Mason’s breathing too.

Logically, he knew that the dance would be completely different seen from a corner than from right at the front due to perspective. Again, _logically_. But logic had abandoned his body at the same exact moment that Corey had laid eyes on him.

Corey’s moves are fluid and quick. Lips muttering the lyrics, following Gaga’s lead up, while his hips roll and thrust in the air, hands hovering around his body. Touching, sometimes. But every moment, without missing one single second, Corey’s gaze is on him. Not the mirror, like it should be, assessing every move to be right and following the rhythm to perfection. But on Mason, gauguin what kind of reaction would he have.

Dying, that’s the only reaction that Mason can surely point out.

He’s dying in the best and sweetest of ways and Corey seems to be pleased by that.

But it also seems to not be enough.

The break after the second chorus comes and Mason knows how the routine goes here, because he not only has seen it many times before but he also dreams of it consistently. And not the type of _wonderland dreams that all rose petals and cotton candy clouds_ , but rather sticky and going the alley of _‘I’m actually melting in my own puddle’_ kind of dreams. So he waits the rehearsal with a ghost body instead the usual girl that Corey moves around, gropes and ruts against, letting Mason on his own to wish it was him the one filling that role.

He’s definitely not expecting the universe to listen to him and have Corey strut towards where he is, just to seconds later straddle him without any trouble. As if that had always been his place to begin with.

Mason isn’t expecting it, but he’s doesn’t want a refund of any kind either.

His hands finding solace on Corey’s hips almost instantly, that just keeps moving with the beat while muttering over Gaga _‘touch me, touch me, don’t be shy’_.

Maybe he could touch, yeah. But his brain is more focused on other thing, like the way Corey’s lips move with a slight smile curling the corners and how his eyes shine with a beating dare of doing more than just looking.

And Mason does.

It’s not like a movie. Definitely not like Dirty Dancing or any other music involved film. They don’t clash mouths hungrily and roam each other’s body in ways that should tickle but Hollywood thinks it’s kinda sexy. He doesn’t moan or grunt or whatever weird mating sound he should do in the middle of a kiss. And Corey doesn’t bite his lower lip nor digs his fingertips on Mason’s shoulders as if hanging for dear life and beg for more.

Nothing of that.

It’s just a kiss.

A soft one, may he add, where his lips barely press against Corey’s, testing the waters before pressing a little bit with more intent. Where Corey’s the one that sighs, as if things finally fell into the place they should and he couldn’t be more grateful for it. And with screams in who knows what language, that Mason’s sure would probably entice other people to fuck senseless each other and does the exact opposite now.

Because this is just them, after months of building up, in a kiss, with soft lips and smiles pressed into one another.

And Lady Gaga in the background, just the exact way as it started.

 

*

 

“I told you that before weekend, not _on_ weekend,” moans Liam, “You just made me lose the bet!”

Mason smiles, because it wasn’t planned exactly. But it’s not like he’d have left everything in hands of chaos either.

Old habits die hard, after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the video that both started it all and that I failed to write down in the one and only scene it was important.  
> I am so very much not sorry.  
> Writing moving limbs in coordination is hard.  
> I also might have taken the white sweatshirt guy as my Corey inspiring material.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KhtMRaq34kg


End file.
